It is shows like “Jon and Kate Plus 8” and “17 Kids and Counting” that lure viewers into thinking that they live a luxurious life and have no worries in the world raising a large family. But in reality it is more than a handful and television always distorts reality. I think this may have something to do with “Octo-Mom” having way more kids than she could possibly handle on her own. I think that she is hoping to find herself on rising television show about her and her 14 children, when in fact she will most likely end up with nothing but the responsibility of raising her children on her own.
It would be one thing if she had gotten pregnant naturally, but it is a completely different matter that she got in vitro fertilization while she already six children, three of them being disabled, waiting at home. She went to this doctor fully aware that she could not provide for them once they were born. She was already on welfare and on her own, there is no way she would be able to take care of more children.
It seems to me that she has no idea of what she is really doing. She wants to, according to an article on examiner.com, use student loans to pay for her children’s necessities. That is most definitely fraud. Then she goes on to downplay her money issue. She claims “it’s only paper”, well she needs that paper or her children will suffer. However, in the middle of her supposed lack of money she was able to, in the first place, afford in vitro fertilization, which is very expensive, and hire a publicist for her while she was in the hospital. It is very difficult for me to figure out what is really important to her.
The article goes on to say that “Octo-mom’s” own mother is “fed up” and refuses to help her daughter when she gets back from the hospital. When your own mother gets “fed up” with you and your ways it is definitely time to take a step back and look at what you are doing. This woman is putting her own wants and desires in front of her children. I think that she needs to sit down and appreciate what she has and quit asking for more, more, more. If she cared for her children she would not have had in vitro fertilization and used that money to buy the everyday needs of her six children that she already had.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Stephanie
Stephanie Lynne Strockis will change the world someday; because she has already changed mine. To begin to describe Stephanie I would use words like; independent, strong-minded, and caring. There is definitely no one else quite like my best friend.
I met Stephanie my first couple days of life and from that moment on we were bonded as best friends. She is almost a year older than me, but despite that, we have remained best friends our whole lives. She and I could not be closer if we were related, that is why both our lives changed dramatically when she turned three.
Just after her third birthday, Stephanie developed linear scleroderma, an arthritis causing the right side of her body to become noticeably smaller than her left. Although I was not the one who developed arthritis, I was affected by it too. I had to grow up a great deal. I had to be strong for her when she was weak, and I had to watch over her when we played and when she went in for her regular physical therapy appointments.
I would accompany Stephanie to her appointments because our mom’s had given up on trying to tear us apart for even an hour. Every time she went to her appointments she would cry in pain from her exercises. My best friend would be in pain and I had to hold back my tears to comfort her. I am her rock, and she is mine.
Every one of my childhood memories involves Stephanie. Everyday was a new adventure. Her imagination took me to places no one could even conceive, one day we would be slaying vampires from the haunted house down the street and the next we would be detectives solving the murder of the man next door. All that would change the day my mom sat us down and told us I was moving.
I honestly thought my life was over. I was leaving the house I grew up in, I was leaving my popular status at school, but most importantly I was leaving Stephanie. My rock was being ripped away from me. I felt as if my whole world had been flipped upside down and I was alone in flipping it right side up again.
That was just the beginning. Starting high school without my best friend there to get me though the day would end up being too much for me to handle. I fell into a deep depression and I did not see the light at the end of the tunnel of despair. I wrote to Stephanie explaining how I was on the verge of self destruction and the next thing I knew my rock was knocking on my front door. She had somehow convinced her mom to drive her two hours to my house just to see me for that day. By the end of the day I was in a completely new mind set, I was ready to kick butt and take names.
If it was not for her comforting words I would have fallen apart and I do not think I would have been able to put myself together again. She pushed me to make new friends, join a sport, and do something positive. By putting myself out there I joined a soccer team and now because of her I am a rocking soccer star with a team full of friends. None of this would have been possible without her and her words of wisdom, strong mindedness, and caring personality. Thanks Stephanie.
I met Stephanie my first couple days of life and from that moment on we were bonded as best friends. She is almost a year older than me, but despite that, we have remained best friends our whole lives. She and I could not be closer if we were related, that is why both our lives changed dramatically when she turned three.
Just after her third birthday, Stephanie developed linear scleroderma, an arthritis causing the right side of her body to become noticeably smaller than her left. Although I was not the one who developed arthritis, I was affected by it too. I had to grow up a great deal. I had to be strong for her when she was weak, and I had to watch over her when we played and when she went in for her regular physical therapy appointments.
I would accompany Stephanie to her appointments because our mom’s had given up on trying to tear us apart for even an hour. Every time she went to her appointments she would cry in pain from her exercises. My best friend would be in pain and I had to hold back my tears to comfort her. I am her rock, and she is mine.
Every one of my childhood memories involves Stephanie. Everyday was a new adventure. Her imagination took me to places no one could even conceive, one day we would be slaying vampires from the haunted house down the street and the next we would be detectives solving the murder of the man next door. All that would change the day my mom sat us down and told us I was moving.
I honestly thought my life was over. I was leaving the house I grew up in, I was leaving my popular status at school, but most importantly I was leaving Stephanie. My rock was being ripped away from me. I felt as if my whole world had been flipped upside down and I was alone in flipping it right side up again.
That was just the beginning. Starting high school without my best friend there to get me though the day would end up being too much for me to handle. I fell into a deep depression and I did not see the light at the end of the tunnel of despair. I wrote to Stephanie explaining how I was on the verge of self destruction and the next thing I knew my rock was knocking on my front door. She had somehow convinced her mom to drive her two hours to my house just to see me for that day. By the end of the day I was in a completely new mind set, I was ready to kick butt and take names.
If it was not for her comforting words I would have fallen apart and I do not think I would have been able to put myself together again. She pushed me to make new friends, join a sport, and do something positive. By putting myself out there I joined a soccer team and now because of her I am a rocking soccer star with a team full of friends. None of this would have been possible without her and her words of wisdom, strong mindedness, and caring personality. Thanks Stephanie.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
I need Africa more than Africa needs me.
“I need Africa more than Africa needs me.” This statement could open the eyes of so many people; as it definitely did for me. I never realized how true that statement was until I started thinking about it. My best friend Stephanie went to Africa for a whole summer one year, she stayed with nuns who had been there serving for many, many years, and when she came back she was glowing with love. She came back telling me stories of how every single child that she took care of her touched her in a way no one else had ever done.
Stephanie started sharing her photos, which she had taken, with me. She told me that the children there loved having their picture taken. As I looked at the pictures I felt immense warmth. I can’t even begin to think what I would have felt actually being around these children, but as I looked at the photos I got teary eyed, thinking of how wonderful these children must be. If by just looking at these photos I became overwhelmed with joy, it must be amazing to be around these people. So by my experience I would have to say that “I need Africa more than Africa needs me”.
Stephanie started sharing her photos, which she had taken, with me. She told me that the children there loved having their picture taken. As I looked at the pictures I felt immense warmth. I can’t even begin to think what I would have felt actually being around these children, but as I looked at the photos I got teary eyed, thinking of how wonderful these children must be. If by just looking at these photos I became overwhelmed with joy, it must be amazing to be around these people. So by my experience I would have to say that “I need Africa more than Africa needs me”.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Rob's Vintage
Have you ever passed a store and thought, “I wonder what it is like in there?” There are hundreds of people who pass by Rob’s Vintage, located in Riverside, and never go inside to find out what it is like. It is in a somewhat busy part of town and, by its size, it is easily missed. When a passerby takes a closer look and goes inside this seemingly unknown store, they realize how unique and interesting everything is.
As the intrigued customer reaches for the door handle to Rob’s Vintage, they notice that the door itself is vintage. It is an old fashion wooden door with, what seems to be, hand blown glass windows and a rusty looking handle. As they pull the door open, it sticks a little as to keep the store’s secret a secret for half a second longer. Upon walking into the store the customer gets an overwhelming feeling of clutter and hears alternative music playing at a low volume, so they can have something to listen to as they search the store for an interesting find. Looking around they see miscellaneous objects and clothing of all shapes, sizes and color, each with its own story of how it ended up at Rob’s Vintage.
The first wall the shopper spots, they see that there are shelves filled with knick-knacks ranging from an old Polaroid camera to lighthouse shaped salt and pepper shakers. The shelves are stacked almost to the ceiling and the shopper wonders “How will I be able to really look at all the items?” Then they realize that there is really no other way of looking closer without the assistance of an employee. Taking a step back they realize that it is almost artistic how the shelves are set up and hesitate to disturb the “art”.
Walking further into the store the patron passes a rack of dresses ranging in styles from the 1920’s to the 1990’s. As they shuffle through the rack a whiff of clean, but old, clothing, passes their nose. They come across an old wedding gown and wonder “Who wore this dress?”, and “Why has it been abandoned to be sold? Shouldn’t a wedding dress be kept as a sentimental artifact?” A wedding is a special time in one’s life and should be treated as such, so they carefully put the dress back in its resting place.
The buyer can now see the back of the store lined with jeans and pants of every color and size. On top of the racks of pants, there are plastic heads for the most elegant hats, each one more unique than the next, to be displayed on. The back of the store seems to be cut off from the front as you have to squeeze past a rack of clothes and some mannequins, dressed with clothing found in the racks throughout the store. What is really neat about vintage stores, such as Rob’s Vintage, is that if you like the clothes on the mannequin, you are encouraged to take them. While looking at the mannequins the shopper might overhear a conversation about the clothing; “Wow, look at this!” comments a girl and another reply’s, “Wow, that’s so awesome, you have to get that or I will.” As the conversation continues the shopper realizes they are surrounded by racks of clothing all separated by type. Behind them are racks of coats and jackets, ranging from fur to jean, in front; racks of t-shirts, and to the side; racks of pants: inexperienced vintage shoppers do not know where to start.
After looking for awhile the patron comes across some pieces of clothing that they would like to try on, so they look around for the dressing room. Upon finding it they note that it is a wooden room near the cash register with western style swinging doors. As they approach the room, comparing their height to the height of the doors, a feeling of worry passes over them as they wonder if the doors are long enough to cover them while trying on clothing. Not every vintage store has an up-to-par dressing room, and most do not even have one. So the down side to shopping in such a unique store is that a shopper has to estimate whether the clothes will fit or not. On top of guessing whether clothing will fit or not they have to weigh the price of the clothing and how much they are willing to risk it, mostly because the store does not accept returns. The risk, however, is usually worth it, due to the price. The pricing at Rob’s Vintage is relatively low, so taking the article of clothing to the tailor’s is still less than what you would have paid for the clothing anywhere else. This risk is all apart of shopping at a vintage store.
Now that the customer has what they want to purchase they make their way to the cash register. This is located in the middle of the store with glass counters and sides, so people can look at the more expensive items. Waiting in line they might look at the walls and see that there are so many things for such a tiny store that the employees had to tack different things, like purses or t-shirts, on the wall above the racks to display them. They arrive at the counter to pay for their items and an interesting array of large wooden pins catches their eye. The engrossed customer decides to ask the associate at the counter what they are and where they came from. The associate answers “Oh those? I made those. I’m an artist and I put some of my work up for sale throughout the store.” This is another unique part of Rob’s Vintage and other vintage stores. For whatever reason it seems that artists are usually the ones working in vintage stores and their art is typically displayed and for sale in the store. Nowhere else would a buyer be able to find this person’s art for sale, which just adds to the uniqueness of the store.
I have always warned people interested in vintage shopping that they have to be willing to spend at least one hour in each store because everything is hidden. If a person is looking for a jacket, they will have to look at every single jacket before they give up; it could be that the jacket they are looking for is the very last one they see. Another warning I give is, if a shopper is struggling between buying an item that they really like and leaving without it, for whatever reason, buy it. I have had many instances where I found something I really liked but decided not to get it. After thinking about it later that day I would end up regretting not getting it and decide to go back and get it but find that someone else has already bought it, leaving me empty handed.
A vintage store is as unique as a person. Just as a person changes their clothes, Rob’s Vintage changes their collection. People will never find the same items twice or the same item in another store. Every time you enter Rob’s Vintage you will be entering a different place. And if shoppers look hard enough, they will always leave satisfied.
For more on Vintage Stores visit:
http://www.zuburbia.blogspot.com/
http://www.lulusvintage.com/
http://vintagegoddess.blogspot.com/
As the intrigued customer reaches for the door handle to Rob’s Vintage, they notice that the door itself is vintage. It is an old fashion wooden door with, what seems to be, hand blown glass windows and a rusty looking handle. As they pull the door open, it sticks a little as to keep the store’s secret a secret for half a second longer. Upon walking into the store the customer gets an overwhelming feeling of clutter and hears alternative music playing at a low volume, so they can have something to listen to as they search the store for an interesting find. Looking around they see miscellaneous objects and clothing of all shapes, sizes and color, each with its own story of how it ended up at Rob’s Vintage.
The first wall the shopper spots, they see that there are shelves filled with knick-knacks ranging from an old Polaroid camera to lighthouse shaped salt and pepper shakers. The shelves are stacked almost to the ceiling and the shopper wonders “How will I be able to really look at all the items?” Then they realize that there is really no other way of looking closer without the assistance of an employee. Taking a step back they realize that it is almost artistic how the shelves are set up and hesitate to disturb the “art”.
Walking further into the store the patron passes a rack of dresses ranging in styles from the 1920’s to the 1990’s. As they shuffle through the rack a whiff of clean, but old, clothing, passes their nose. They come across an old wedding gown and wonder “Who wore this dress?”, and “Why has it been abandoned to be sold? Shouldn’t a wedding dress be kept as a sentimental artifact?” A wedding is a special time in one’s life and should be treated as such, so they carefully put the dress back in its resting place.
The buyer can now see the back of the store lined with jeans and pants of every color and size. On top of the racks of pants, there are plastic heads for the most elegant hats, each one more unique than the next, to be displayed on. The back of the store seems to be cut off from the front as you have to squeeze past a rack of clothes and some mannequins, dressed with clothing found in the racks throughout the store. What is really neat about vintage stores, such as Rob’s Vintage, is that if you like the clothes on the mannequin, you are encouraged to take them. While looking at the mannequins the shopper might overhear a conversation about the clothing; “Wow, look at this!” comments a girl and another reply’s, “Wow, that’s so awesome, you have to get that or I will.” As the conversation continues the shopper realizes they are surrounded by racks of clothing all separated by type. Behind them are racks of coats and jackets, ranging from fur to jean, in front; racks of t-shirts, and to the side; racks of pants: inexperienced vintage shoppers do not know where to start.
After looking for awhile the patron comes across some pieces of clothing that they would like to try on, so they look around for the dressing room. Upon finding it they note that it is a wooden room near the cash register with western style swinging doors. As they approach the room, comparing their height to the height of the doors, a feeling of worry passes over them as they wonder if the doors are long enough to cover them while trying on clothing. Not every vintage store has an up-to-par dressing room, and most do not even have one. So the down side to shopping in such a unique store is that a shopper has to estimate whether the clothes will fit or not. On top of guessing whether clothing will fit or not they have to weigh the price of the clothing and how much they are willing to risk it, mostly because the store does not accept returns. The risk, however, is usually worth it, due to the price. The pricing at Rob’s Vintage is relatively low, so taking the article of clothing to the tailor’s is still less than what you would have paid for the clothing anywhere else. This risk is all apart of shopping at a vintage store.
Now that the customer has what they want to purchase they make their way to the cash register. This is located in the middle of the store with glass counters and sides, so people can look at the more expensive items. Waiting in line they might look at the walls and see that there are so many things for such a tiny store that the employees had to tack different things, like purses or t-shirts, on the wall above the racks to display them. They arrive at the counter to pay for their items and an interesting array of large wooden pins catches their eye. The engrossed customer decides to ask the associate at the counter what they are and where they came from. The associate answers “Oh those? I made those. I’m an artist and I put some of my work up for sale throughout the store.” This is another unique part of Rob’s Vintage and other vintage stores. For whatever reason it seems that artists are usually the ones working in vintage stores and their art is typically displayed and for sale in the store. Nowhere else would a buyer be able to find this person’s art for sale, which just adds to the uniqueness of the store.
I have always warned people interested in vintage shopping that they have to be willing to spend at least one hour in each store because everything is hidden. If a person is looking for a jacket, they will have to look at every single jacket before they give up; it could be that the jacket they are looking for is the very last one they see. Another warning I give is, if a shopper is struggling between buying an item that they really like and leaving without it, for whatever reason, buy it. I have had many instances where I found something I really liked but decided not to get it. After thinking about it later that day I would end up regretting not getting it and decide to go back and get it but find that someone else has already bought it, leaving me empty handed.
A vintage store is as unique as a person. Just as a person changes their clothes, Rob’s Vintage changes their collection. People will never find the same items twice or the same item in another store. Every time you enter Rob’s Vintage you will be entering a different place. And if shoppers look hard enough, they will always leave satisfied.
For more on Vintage Stores visit:
http://www.zuburbia.blogspot.com/
http://www.lulusvintage.com/
http://vintagegoddess.blogspot.com/
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Sick!
So I have officially had my first sickness at college. I'm usually a very healthy person, but when there is absolutely no ventilation in these halls you are bound to get sick, and even more so if your roommate is sick as well. And as far as missing classes, it is completely out of the question. This is not high school where you will miss a class and everything will be dandy because your teacher will give you the time to make it up and sometimes give the whole lecture over again. No you miss and you could be completely out of the loop forever! Okay maybe not that severe, but I promised myself that I would not get behind and play the catch-up game, like I always do. I am such a procrastinator it's ridiculous. And so far I have been pretty good on staying on top of all my homework and getting sleep when I need it, even though the temptation of staying out as late as I want to is staring me in the face. Well I hope that I can get better this weekend at home. In a nice big bed and room all to myself and my mom waiting on my hand and foot. Now that is what I'm talking about. :)
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
College
Well here I am. I'm starting my life. I'm on my own, sort of. I still find myself going home every weekend. Being home gives me the comfort of knowing that I am not being forgotten while at CBU. I figure "out of sight, out of mind". Yeah my mom calls me everyday, (I'm her first born, can you blame her?) but I still feel that I'm being forgotten. Everyone says that "I'm not the only one going through this", however I cannot find a single person who wants to be home every weekend. They all seem so adapted and able to be on their own. I feel as if I should be able to do everything on my own, yet I find myself calling my mom or getting away to call my boyfriend, who is in San Diego. I don't want to shut myself in my room and not be sociable, but if I was home that is what I would be doing too. After a long day of classes all I want to do is relax in front of the TV, but I feel like that is wrong. I should be out, with people, being sociable. On the other hand that's not me. I'm not a very sociable person...well I guess I will "keep on truckin'."
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